


One Dance

by HawkSong



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Formalwear, Gen, Prom, Slice of Life, Slow Dancing, Wolmeric Week (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29818260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawkSong/pseuds/HawkSong
Summary: Ishgard Academy's Spring Formal!For Wolmeric Week 2021, prompt was "Formal"
Relationships: Alphinaud Leveilleur & Warrior of Light, Aymeric de Borel & Warrior of Light
Kudos: 5





	One Dance

Tataru beamed at Berylla. “Oh, you're just a _picture!_ ”

“A picture of what, though?” Berylla smiled back.

“Now just remember, don't touch your face.”

“What if my nose itches or somethin'?”

Tataru swatted Berylla's arm lightly. “Don't sass me, young lady!”

There was a tap on a door of the apartment. The Lalafellin jumped down from her chair and went to answer the door. “Oh good, it's you. Yes, she's ready.”

Berylla bit her lip a little, suddenly shy all over again. But Tataru had covered up the big mirror and there was no more time...

Gibrillont stepped into the room, and stopped in his tracks. Tawny eyes glanced across her and he gave her a slow smile. “Well, well. Tataru, you've outdone yourself.”

“Pish, I didn't do all that much. Now, go on,” the Lalafellin said to Berylla with one more big smile. “You'll be late, if you don't skedaddle.”

Gibrillont held out his hand and Berylla took it. With the same grace he might use with a real lady, he led her out of the apartment and down the narrow stairs, to where his car waited.

The trip back to the Forgotten Knight was quiet, with Berylla staring down at the full skirt that enveloped her. She had never worn anything so fancy or pretty, and it was a pure miracle that Tataru had somehow made the dress reasonably comfortable too. The Lalafellin had snapped a lot of photos with her phone. “Before and after,” she had told Berylla airily. “I'll post them tomorrow.”

The redhead wasn't sure if she was excited or not, at this point. She knew, sort of, what all was going to happen tonight. A lot of picture taking, one way or another. A meal, and gods did she hope it wasn't something too fancy. Being on Aymeric's arm when they came into the place where this was all happening... _that_ idea was likely to make her lose her mind if she thought about it too long.

She clasped her hands in her lap so she wouldn't pull at her hair. I _s Alphinaud gonna be okay? He was so downcast when I had to tell him that Aymeric already asked me...and he hasn't spoken a word to me since then._

“There's no need to worry, lass.”

She looked up and over at Gibrillont. He smiled, not taking his eyes off the road. “Borel is the sort of fellow who'll bend himself into a pretzel to make sure you're okay. A good fellow. He knows this is all new to you. He'll take good care of you this evening, I'm sure of it.”

She swallowed. “I think I'm almost more worried that I'll embarrass myself. And him.”

“Oh you likely will have a time of it – but if I might offer a bit of old-man advice?”

“What old man, there's no old man in this car.”

He laughed. “Well, and thank you for that.” They pulled up at a red light, and he looked over at her. “No one is going to care that much if you do slip up, and your friends will care the least of all. Ignore the snakes and their hissing, and chase after the smiles and the laughter. Enjoy being with your friends, lass. This isn't that much different from going for coffee...”

“Hah!” Berylla snorted. “It's completely different. But...I get what you're sayin'.” She started to lift her hand and made herself drop it into her lap again. “I'll do the best I can.”

They got back and Berylla went upstairs to put awar the bag with her normal clothes in it. But no sooner had she managed that, than there was a tap on her door.

She swallowed hard and lifted her chin, and opened the door.

Aymeric stood there, looking at her with those gorgeous eyes of his – and for a moment she really did feel beautiful, the way he stared at her and couldn't seem to say a word.

He looked pretty terrific, himself – his black silk tux was perfectly tailored, of course, and somehow he had gotten his hands on a shirt that was the exact color of the dress Berylla was wearing. Pinned to his jacket was a very small, very blue iris, surrounded by a spray of even tinier white roses. She could see a glitter of silver at his wrists – cuff links. He held a small white box, and after a moment of silence, he inclined his head to her.

“Might I come in a moment?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” She backed up to let him in, not closing the door. She could see Gibrillont down the hall a bit, watching her door. It made her feel obscurely happy to know that he was sticking to what he had said – “observing the proprieties” hadn't meant much to her before. Now she got it.

Though she wondered where Alisaie and Alphinaud were. Had they already left?

But such thoughts were chased out of her head as Aymeric opened the white pasteboard box.

“Oh, wow.” She stared at the flowers as he lifted them out. “It's so pretty, Aymeric.”

It was, too – ribbons a few shades darker than her dress, and a single bright blue iris in the middle, with little white roses and lilies and baby's breath in a froth of white around it. She touched it with wondering fingers and realized the flowers were all silk, which made perfect sense to her. Real flowers would die in hours. She found herself thinking about where she'd put the lovely little bouquet, to keep it safe. She had never wanted to keep much in the way of mementos before coming to Ishgard.

“I am glad you approve,” he smiled. “Give me your wrist.”

“Huh?”

Aymeric's smile widened. “It's a corsage, Berylla. Please, your wrist.”

“Oh. Oh! Right.” She knew she was blushing, but he didn't laugh at her. Instead he concentrated on tying the ribbons just so around her wrist, and the tiny frown that creased his brows made her fluttering nerves calm down. So did the fact that she could feel his hands shaking ever so slightly. _He's nervous too. So it ain't just me_. Why that made her feel so much better mystified her but she was glad of it.

“There,” he murmured. Then he straightened a bit, and looked into her face. “I believe we are now ready.”

“I th-think so.” She smiled, and clutched her skirts to keep her hands off her hair. Then Aymeric held his hand out to her, and she managed to give him her hand without shaking too badly.

Then he was tucking her hand on top of his arm and leading her out into the hallway and Gibrillont was smiling at the two of them, his phone already out before she could so much as blink. “Go on,” he told them. “I'll lock up for you, lass, and I'll be awake when you come home again.”

“Thanks,” Berylla murmured, stunned. No one had ever waited up for her in all her life. But she didn't have time to really process that incredible thought, because they were going down the stairs and out the door and there was the car – a long, black limousine, the fanciest thing she had ever laid eyes on. And the driver was waiting beside the door, holding it open for her, helping her get in, and the inside of the car was even nicer than the outside, and then Aymeric was sitting beside her and the car was in motion – gliding like a dream. This is really happening, I'm in a gods damned limo with the handsomest guy I've ever known and...and...

“You look like you're about to faint,” Aymeric murmured to her.

She tried to laugh, but it was just breath without any real sound. “I'm not gonna faint.” She swallowed. “Probably. This is all just – different. _Real_ different.”

“Of course.” He leaned into her, slipping his arm around her waist. “Don't fret so much, please? I will be right beside you, and nothing of this evening is dangerous in the slightest.”

 _Except maybe to my heart_. But she didn't say that. Even in her head it sounded dumb as hell.

“We will stop at the Hoplon Park,” he told her, his fingers stroking her arm lightly. “It won't be a very long affair, there, but Lord Edmont was quite insistent.”

“Why?”

“For photographs, of course.”

Berylla blinked up at Aymeric. “But Tataru already took my picture.” Then she blushed. “Oh, wait, they want pictures of both of us, right.”

Aymeric smiled. “You blush so prettily.” He pressed a very gentle kiss to her forehead. “Relax.”

She took a long breath, and let it out, and tried to smile.

It was far easier for her to smile by the time they finally arrived at the Hraesvelgr's Wings. Berylla's relaxation had been helped along a lot by the light wine that they'd been served with their dinner, and by the easy conversation with Aymeric and the others at the table.

To her relief, it had _not_ been a “romantic dinner,” but a small gathering. Lord Edmont had joined them, and their friends from the Haillenarte family had been there, including one of the aunts (Berylla had not gotten her name). It had been nice, and quiet, and everyone had been so chill that Berylla just couldn't stay nervous. And now they were here, at the fine hotel that was hosting the event.

The hotel looked lovely at any time, but tonight it was even more welcoming than usual, strung with lights and a tastefully printed banner welcoming them to the Academy Formal.

The ballroom was lit up and decorated with a gorgeously understated theme – she hadn't had anything to do with any of the voting, but it was obvious that the overall idea was feathers or something to do with winged creatures. White and gold pinions were everywhere, but soon enough Berylla wasn't paying a bit of attention to the decorations.

The first thing Aymeric did was escort her to join a small line along one side of the hall. She saw immediately what the line was for, and looked up at him. “More pictures?”

He chuckled, and tucked her hand against his arm once more. “These are the official ones. It shouldn't take long. Then we can dance a bit.”

There were already lots of people dancing in the middle of the ballroom. Berylla recognized the Y-pop song that was playing, and she was pretty sure she knew the guy running the DJ booth, too. For all the fancy clothes, everyone was obviously having a great time. She watched, and the last of the butterflies in her stomach calmed down. No one seemed to give a shit if they looked goofy. Every face was laughing and smiling. Just being kids. Just having fun.

She was suddenly eager to go out there and have fun, too.

Aymeric was right – having their pictures taken one more time really didn't take long once they got to the head of the line. And just as he promised, he led her out onto the dance floor, just as the music changed to something much slower, a love ballad.

He took her in his arms, and she set her hands on his shoulders. For an instant she rained blessings down on Miss Felina's head for showing her what to do, as she caught sight of the blond teacher off to one side of the room. Miss Felina gave her a big goofy grin and a thumbs-up, and Berylla couldn't help but grin back.

Then her attention was on Aymeric and only on him.

He smiled down at her, and his hand holding hers was warm. They swayed together, gently turning in slow circles – nothing fancy at all, but the motion was so easy, so simple, she found herself moving as if she didn't even have feet. They just floated together, and she didn't care if she looked like an idiot or not. There was no one else in the room but Aymeric, no one else that mattered.

Her heart was so calm and peaceful. Is heaven gonna be like this? Because if it is, I ain't all that scared of dying anymore.

The song ended, and they stood still for a moment. Another slower song was starting up, but Aymeric looked up, over her head, and a strange smile came across his face.

“May I cut in?”

Berylla let go of Aymeric and turned around. Her eyes went wide.

“Alphinaud...?”

Alphinaud took no small amount of pleasure in the way Berylla stared at him. The look in Aymeric's eyes made him tip his chin up to the taller boy. But the two of them had discussed this...and to his secret relief, Aymeric did not go back on his word. His hands remained at his sides, rather than trying to hold Berylla closer...and Berylla was still staring at him, her lovely mouth open just a little, completely flummoxed.

He smiled at her, feeling just a touch smug. For all the stares and pretty compliments he had gathered this evening, the pole-axed look on Berylla's face was by far the most satisfying reaction of them all.

He took her hand in his and bowed over it just slightly, keeping eye contact with her. “May I have the pleasure of this dance, my lady?”

He felt her trembling, saw how her cheeks warmed. It stung a little that she glanced back at Aymeric before she answered, but the way Aymeric simply nodded and smiled helped soothe that sting.

“Y-y-yeah. I mean, yes, please.”

He didn't waste another second. Aymeric moved back towards the sidelines, and Alphinaud swept Berylla further out onto the dance floor.

I didn't know he could look so gorgeous. Berylla couldn't take her eyes off her friend. Alphinaud's white hair was bound up in his usual braid, but his tux was pure white, and the jacket had long elegant tails. Just like Aymeric's suit it was beautifully tailored, and made of silk; but his shirt was a deep midnight blue. The flower tucked into his jacket was a single rose, just as blue as the iris in Berylla's corsage. They almost matched, in fact. His eyes stayed fixed on hers, his cheeks just a little pink. As they moved – faster than Aymeric had danced with her – the air around them carried a scent to her and she realized Alphinaud was wearing cologne, a delicious scent that she couldn't name.

Even though he was keeping their steps quicker, Berylla found herself having no trouble keeping up. In fact she moved with Alphinaud even better than she had with Aymeric, so easily that it took her a minute to realize he was leading her in a waltz. Dancing with him was positively magical.

She smiled at him, breathless with feelings she didn't want to try to name.

“I thought you were mad at me,” she finally managed to say.

“Never.” He smiled back at her, pleased with himself in the extreme, and she could only grin wider at the smugness in his eyes. “I confess I was most disappointed...but I could never be angry with you.”

“You're too sweet, Alphinaud.” She wanted to lean closer to him, but the dance steps weren't going to allow for that. “I'm really glad though. You look...you look amazing.”

“I know,” he replied. Berylla laughed aloud at that, delight bubbling over inside her.

They didn't speak for the rest of the dance. When it was over, Alphinaud had brought them right back where they started.

Berylla put her arms around the white-haired boy for a moment. “Thank you so much,” she whispered. Then she gave him a quick, feather light kiss on the cheek, and let him go, as Aymeric was stepping up to them.

The older boy took her back from Alphinaud, and for an instant the two young men looked at each other. Something unspoken passed between them, and then Alphinaud gave Berylla a second small bow and walked away. He hadn't even gotten off the dance floor before one of the younger girls latched onto him, excitedly chattering, clearly begging him for a dance.

Berylla looked up at Aymeric, and saw him smiling fondly after the Sharlayan youth.

“Thank you,” she said to him.

He glanced down at her, and raised his eyebrows. “For what?”

“For being nice to him like that. You didn't have to...”

Aymeric smiled. “Let us not talk about that now. After all, this is a night for enjoying ourselves, is it not?”

Berylla smiled back. “It is.” Then her smile became a grin. “Show me a good time, Aymeric.”


End file.
